Miss Moon
by thehugbandit
Summary: When the Joker decides to crash a fund-raising event hosted by Gotham's newest resident, Cara-Beth King, he's surprised to discover her lack of fear of him and quickly finds himself playing by her rules. But soon enough, her mystery wears off and Cara-Beth is left praying for a savior. Will she escape with her life? [Ft. Jason, Bruce, Dick, Harley, Joker, & Tim][JasonXOC]
1. Prologue

Prologue:

She missed the quiet lull the room had before. The hushed violin in the background as children laughed and played, racing around in their finest clothes as adults conversed about their personal success. She longed to be awkwardly in the center of the room, the center of attention; and even wished for her out of place smile to return as she attempted to boast about her team's triumphs over the past six months.

But the room was different now. No longer was Sophia Starr engaged in what Bruce Wayne was saying, nor did the A-Listers chatter about the weather as they sipped on rich Champaign and cocktails. The thin veil of relief had shattered leaving a lingering panic. Gotham's greatest were forced to scatter, running for cover as a stampede of chaos erupted, holding the room and everyone in it hostage. And she, the doe-eyed guest of honor, found herself taking refuge under a table.

Gunshots demanded to be heard. Frantic screams captured her attention. She remained silent, tucking Chloe's head into the nook of her neck and gently stroking her golden brown locks.

"Don't worry." The words rolled out of her mouth in a low hum. "It'll all be over soon."

She wrapped her arms around Chloe, trying to convey a sense of calm with her touch. Out of instinct, or maybe it was fear, the child clung to her torso and nuzzled her tears into the woman's shoulder. She held the girl tighter and gently stroked her hair.

"M-Miss King-" Adrian stammered, the words got stuck in his throat as he cowered with his brother, Devin, behind her back. But he didn't need to finish the sentence to let her know he was afraid. She smiled kindly at two boys and nodded for them to join her side. She couldn't let them know her smile was slipping. That it was failing and she was just as concerned as they were.

The seconds seemed like hours as they huddled closely under the table. She could feel the rapid beating of the little hearts as the noise droned on and on. How could she let this happen? This disaster that was sure to traumatize the very children she was desperately trying to serve and protect? She felt so foolish. All those years of studying the demographic, learning the people, crime, and religion of the sleepless city only to turn herself into another sad statistic. Why? Oh, God, why was this happening?

"And what have we here?" Air evaporated from her lungs. And when she finally mustered the courage to open her eyes, she knew her fate was sealed. Her arms tightened around Chloe, and her breathing slowed. She couldn't afford to show weakness. Not here. Not now. "Ah, lookie what I found! Mother Goose with her goslings!"

"Is that right, Mistah J?" Came an annoying chirp. She had come face to face with the Devils of Disaster, two parts of the Suicide Squad, a group she had only ever read about. The first, the Joker. A crazed sociopath with an unquenchable desire to study human behavior. The second? Miss Harleen Quinzel, better known as Harley Quinn. A beautiful psychiatrist lured away by the Joker's mind games.

"Aw, come along little goose, come come! I won't hurt ya." He cooed offering up a hand. Her mind instantly drew to the children. She weighed her options over and the realization hit: he was going to take her no matter what she chose.

"Mistah J, she looks nervous!" Harley said smacking a bubble between her lips. The Joker's eyes didn't tear away from her, not even for a second. "I thinks she's the one who's throwin' dis lil' shindig, aren't ya, shug-ah?" With a smack of gum, the infamous Harley Quinn crouched to the doe-eyed girl's side twirling a strand of yellow blonde hair around her finger. Her piercing blue eyes scanned her over then scrambled back to where her boss was lurking.

"Ah, keen eye, Harley! I think we may owe this lil' old Mother Goose a big warm thank you, what do you say, snookums, should we give 'er a big ole hug and kiss?" The Joker asked dropping to his knees. Again, he offered up his hand. This time, the guest of honor took it, accepting her fate.

 **Songs meant to inspire:**

 _1\. Purity Ring- "Begin Again"_

 _2\. Grimes- "Genesis"_

 _3\. alt_j- "Breezeblocks"_


	2. Chapter One: Let the Games Begin

Chapter One: Let the Games Begin

"It's interesting, don't you think?" Once again, Cara-Beth King captured the spotlight. She maneuvered herself out from underneath the table with only the support of a single gloved hand; then cast her gaze down to the children she'd been shielding and shot them a faint warm smile, trying her best to soothe their spirits with that one look. "Mistah Joker I presume." She said letting her voice hint at a mock as she shifted back to the two figured who'd lured her away from safety. A playful smirk touched her lips as she lifted the Joker's hand to her mouth and kissed his glove. "A pleasure." She murmured flicking her gaze to Harley. "And you as well, Miss Harleen." She said curtseying.

"Ah, such a lady!" The Joker remarked. Harley glared. "And what does a delicate flower such as yourself find to be so interesting?"

"Do you remember your first kiss, Mister J?" She asked politely. His face didn't falter from that curvy, twisted smile. But he didn't answer her. In fact, his normal sly remarks had seemed to escape him as he continued to stare at her, genuinely curious as to where she was going. Harley, on the other hand, wasn't so enthralled. The blonde baby doll popped out her hip and tossed her head from side to side, keeping a close eye on the sinister clown. Readying herself for his cue.

"Ah, what'shee talkin' 'bout, Mistah J?" Harley batted her eyes and leaned her entire weight into her boss who quickly shook her off.

"Miss Harley, don' be rude." He hummed stepping closer to the guest of honor. "Come on, don't be shy, love. Tell Papa Joker all about that first, impeccable kiss."

"Far from impeccable." She laughed. "Actually, I believe it was like most kisses. I didn't anticipate it at all. And it was awkward, and sloppy. Neither of us knew what we were doing. But I will never forget it. The smell of wildflowers. The hot summer air. I can still feel it all, down to his lips on mine." She gently brushed her fingers over mouth, lost in the moment. Then smiled and fixed her attention to the clown. "Meeting you tonight is a lot like a first kiss for me. I expected it to happen, because almost everyone have a first kiss, Mister J. I just never anticipated it would be right here, right now, like this." She scanned the room and shook her head. For the first time, a frown touched her face. "I don't even know what to say to you- to either of you. My heart just hurts. And I understand this is mostly my fault. Asking big names here, gathering them all in one convenient location for you. I guess I just thought, no- I _hoped_ you'd show us your support from afar. We worked hard for this, Mister J. Miss Harley. We worked so, so hard."

She buried her face in her hands. The room stood still. No one expected her to talk to him like he was human. And the guns pointed at her, aimed at her, didn't seem to shake her. She just seemed tired.

"Oh, my dear! My poor, poor dear." The Joker pouted out his bottom lip and cupped his hand around her chin. Harley perked up. "But of course we're here to show our support! Why, child, we just had to make a scene first! I get the feeling you aren't from around here, hm? What do you think, sugar puff? Should we school the poor dear on how we show support?"

"Aw, baby! I thought you'd never ask."

The look on Harley's face was enough to make anyone's blood run cold. And the with the snap of her fingers, the lights powered down leaving everyone in complete and utter darkness. Shrieks of terror erupted followed by the loud rattling of gunshots. The Joker's laugh shook the room to its core.

"Now where's the bats? Won't he come out to play? Oh, come now! The kids would love to see the infamous Batman and his noble side-kick side-show, Robin!"

The lights suddenly flickered back on, Joker clapped his hands excitedly together as Harley and some goons monitored the room, rounding the crowd up like cattle.

"All clear over here, baby cakes!" Harley said shooting her thumb up.

"Thank you, Harley dear!" He said looping arms with Cara-Beth. "Now, you- you were a lovely surprise! I mean, your speech really hit me hard. I got chills! Real chills. It's remarkable, really. Now, would you like to hear a speech from me?"

"Oh, Mister J, I do believe you won't leave me much of a choice. But the truth is, I'd love nothing more than to hear you speak."

He paused, looked her over, and chuckled. "Wow! Was that sarcasm? Because if it was, you masked it really well!"

"Not at all." She smiled. "I would love to hear your speech. Please, continue."

He looked at her sideways, then shook his head and continued to parade her around the room. "The reason Harley and I decided to take the kiddies out to your little party was because we heard ole Brucie boy and the rest of his little Waynes were gonna be here. Harley and I were hurt you'd invite them to a party and not us."

"Oh, Mister Joker! I am so sorry, you've been horribly misinformed. This isn't a closed event. It's open to the public!"

There was a beat of silence. He paused. Harley peered at them from over her shoulder curiously. "Ah, no worries!" He said waving her away with the back of his hand, completely brushing off the bit of new news like it was nothing. "With or without an invite, Harley and I would love to come. You see, Harley and I are both orphans, in a sense. Misunderstood, stealing for life. No one who cares about us. To rub our hair and tell us everything will be alright at night. No mommy or daddy to keep us safe." He wiped away an imaginary tear and sniffled. Cara-Beth smiled politely and stroked his arm. "When we heard Brucie Boy was going to be here we decided we wanted to give the kids a night they would never forgot! You see, Batman and Brucie Boy are a packaged deal. He knows how to get to the bat better than anyone. And I do know how the kids love a good role-model!"

He waved his hand around signaling one of the gunmen to fire off a round. Cara-Beth flinched.

"I see, so you plan on tricking Batman into coming?"

"Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!" The Joker laughed. Cara-Beth nodded. "But, there's a catch! You see, the Bat has to choose…save you, my dear, the head of a thriving non-profit, a beautiful, young, vibrant humanitarian who has done so much good work in such a short amount of time…or, save the children."

"I think I misheard you." Cara-Beth tried to laugh, but it failed. "Between me and the orphans?"

"I know, I know! So sad, right?" He said stroking her cheek. "But don't you worry your pretty little head off, this machine will do it for you!"

He nodded at a goon who unveiled something straight out of a nightmare. An iron chair with spikes and flashing lights. A medieval torcher device revamped with a modern flare.

"Fun, right?" Harley said leaning into the chair. "You'll be sittin' riggghht here!"

"Oh, and there's more!" Joker chuckled. "The chair is set to go off in five minutes! If the Bat doesn't save you between now and then, off goes your head! Right in front of the kiddies."

Cara-Beth inhaled quickly and touched her neck lightly. "Oh dear, this _is_ sad." She sighed. "I thought, maybe- oh, never mind."

"You thought what?" There was something about Cara-Beth that made the Joker want to ask for more. Something about her genuine nature that stroke a chord of curiosity in him. She kindly patted his hand and grinned wider. Her eyes sparkled.

"It's silly, really. I think I was really excited about playing a game with you and Harley." She peered over at Harley and waved. "You see, you were right when you said I wasn't from around here. I've read so much about the both of you, though. I feel like I know you."

"Um, what?" Harley shifted her weight from one foot to another making it painfully clear she wasn't buying into the charade. The Joker wasn't so cautious.

"A game?" He asked using his free hand to rub his chin. Cara-Beth nodded.

"Yes, of course! But I see now you don't want to play with me and would rather use me as a pawn. How sad."

"What are yah getting' at here?" Harley piped in.

Cara-Beth smiled at her wide-eyed. "Oh, lovely Harley, I know you have no reason to believe me. Especially after you clearly put so much thought into this whole game of your own. Beautiful work you've done as well." She said motioning around the room. "And I do believe you genuinely want to make this night magic for the kids, and that you want them to feel an intense rush of adrenaline as Batman swoops in with Robin to heroically rescue them. I couldn't have imagined a better ending to the night. But, oh my goodness, I feel so foolish admitting this," she blushed, "before you hook me up to this machine would you all like to play a game with me?" She batted her eyes up at the Joker and gently placed a hand on his chest. "Consider it a dying wish because we all know Batman is going to try his best to save us all and then end up saving the kids and letting me die. It's in his noble nature, and I admire him for that the same way I admire you for your creativity."

There was a long, silent pause. The whole room seemed to be holding their breath. A union of people sitting on the edge of their seats, wondering where this once peaceful night was going and hoping for the best.

"You have my attention." The Joker stated simply. "What do you propose?"

"I admit, I didn't think I'd get this far." She chuckled leaning away. "But I would love to play a game of capture the flag. A mixed group of everyone in the room so you can keep an eye on us until Batman gets here. You against me. And if we're picking teams, I choose Harley as my first pick."

"A bold move, taking my right-hand man. And what makes you think I'll let you do that?"

"Because I fully intend on changing the stakes." She said puffing out her chest. Harley's mouth came unhinged. Joker narrowed his eyes, amused.

"Aren't you just full of surprises, Mother Goose. Go on, what do have to offer me?"

"You couldn't possibly be considering this-" Harley stammered. Joker shot his hand up to silence her, then curved his fingers into his palm encouraging Cara-Beth to continue.

"If I win, you let us go for the night. No need to get the police involved, no need to call Batman out of hibernation. Just a fun night among friends, and I'll eagerly await our next encounter where you can choose the game."

"But what happens when we win?" Harley asked impatiently.

"Ah, yes. What she said." Joker smirked.

" _If_ you win," Cara-Beth corrected, "then you can have me. You can call Batman out if you want, have the kids see you guys ruthlessly go at it like you always do, but eventually let the kids go and make a narrow escape with me. I won't fight you, I won't try to escape or sell you out. I'll become a second Harley to you. You both can make me your slave, or accomplice, whatever you want. You can kill me. But I don't think you'll do that, because why would you? Wouldn't be more entertaining to have me fall so far from grace. My whole life I've worked towards serving people for the greater good, and in one night you can turn me against myself. Doesn't that sound tempting?"

Joker turned to Harley and they shared a look. Finally, Joker cackled, pulled away from Cara-Beth, and started rubbing his hands together.

"You have made the night very interesting." He said wagging a finger in her face. "Rarely do I have someone hijack my plans like this; and if they do, I usually kill them. It's a ritual. But there's something about you. I like your spunk. May I add a suggestion? A request, really. When I win, I want you to become Harley's personal assistant. Things have gotten a little hard for her lately, and I feel like she could use someone like you. What do you say, shnooky poo?"

"I like it!" Harley giggled. "She could use a makeover, though."

"We'll talk about that later." He grinned. "For now, let the games begin."

 **Songs meant to inspire:**

"Microphone"- Coconut Records

"The Wrestle"- Frightened Rabbit

"Ocean" Margot & the Nuclear So and So's

"Lean On"- Major Lazer

 **Question:**

How do you feel about Cara-Beth? Is she too perfect? Annoying? Manipulative? Or do you need to see more of her to have an opinion? What do you think about the Joker and Harley so far? Have I gotten their personalities wrong? Or do you enjoy them?

 **Poll:**

Should Cara-Beth join the Joker and Harley?

-Yes?

-No?


	3. Chapter Two: Foolish

Chapter Two: Foolish

Cara-Beth carefully peeled her heels from her feet and knotted the hem of her dress to her thigh in a vain attempt to be practical. She motioned a group of kids to scout out the area while she lingered behind the makeshift flag tied to a tile on the ceiling. Harley checked her nails, still smacking on the same piece of gum she'd entered the building with a good two hours before.

"How long is this gonna take?" Harley whined hopping onto a nearby table. "I'm so bored!"

"That's because you're not engaging yourself." Cara-Beth remarked with a dull eye roll.

"Huh? And why would I do that? Yous knows I don't wan'cha to win, now don'cha sugah?"

"Well of course not." Cara-Beth smiled scoping out the room. "But where's the fun in that? Haven't you ever wanted to challenge the Joker? I mean, really challenge him? With everything you had in you?"

"Oh no you don'!" Harley said sliding off the table. "I know all about your game! You tyin' to get inside my head, sugah. Make me into your lil minion. Well, it ain't gonna work!"

A faint smile touched Cara-Beth's lips as she sloppily threw her hair in a messy top-knot. She shrugged her shoulders and headed towards the door, lingering a bit before saying her final piece. "Suit yourself." She hummed. "You could just as easily sabotage us. But, again, where's the fun in that? Your boss wants a challenge. Why not give it to him?"

Harley's glare could pierce through stone, but it didn't touch Cara-Beth as she coolly slipped out of the room. She wasn't afraid of them. They couldn't touch her. And as long as she was stalling, as long as she was playing the game, the children would be safe.

"What now, boss?" A tall muscular man covered in tattoos asked. Cara-Beth smiled as couple more goons joined her side.

"Frank, Kevin, and Joe, right?" She asked pointing to each of the men. They nodded. "Wonderful! Well, I sent the kids to scope out enemy territory. They should be returning soon. However, I still need you three to guard the perimeter. Capture as many hostages as possible and take turns questioning them. Has anyone seen Sophia?"

"Miss Star? She's been captured." Frank chirped. Cara-Beth frowned.

"How many of ours do they have?"

"As of now, four." Joe grumbled running a hand through his thick black hair.

"And, Kevin, how many of theirs do we have?"

"Three. Bruce, a blonde lady, and some kid."

"Bruce Wayne?" There was no masking the surprise in her voice. Kevin smiled.

"The one and only." He remarked triumphantly.

"Excellent. Well done. That's a pretty hefty bargaining chip, don't you think? Remind me to send you guys a pie after this."

"You mean if you survive this." Joe pointed out. Kevin elbowed him in the ribs and Frank pinched his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, annoyed. Cara-Beth laughed.

"Very funny. But thanks to you guys, I have a fighting chance. So, yay!"

She spun on the balls of her feet and marched off towards the walk-in closet they'd turned into a prison where she was sure she'd come face-to-face with the infamous Bruce Wayne.

"Ah, Miss King!" Giggled a girl in a loose red dress. "It's me, Cynthia Dunn. We met last week-"

"For brunch to discuss the organization." She finished. "I remember. You and your father have been funding the orphanage for years now."

"Well, more him than me, but yeah. I just wanted to say I think this plan is genius! You're giving us all a fighting chance."

"You flatter me! I'm not doing much. You are a true hero, being there for the kids for years. That's amazing."

"Aw, thank you! Oh! I'm so sorry." Suddenly Cynthia was flustered. "You must be here for Bruce, am I right?" Cara-Beth nodded. Cynthia stepped aside. "Sorry, I must have gotten a little star struck! Good luck talking to him, he's been tight lipped since we brought him here. If you ask me, he's been getting a bit stir-crazy. He hasn't paid a lick of attention to any of us! And he keeps checking his watch. Weird."

"Yeah, weird." She whispered grasping the handle of the door. She waited a beat before entering.

"Miss King!" Adrian's voice brought a wave of comfort to her ears, and his little arms around her torso somehow made the night seem well again. She stroked the locks of his hair and exhaled slowly, pleased to have some sense of normalcy back in her life. "Do you really think Batman is coming?"

"Oh, I sure hope so." She breathed squeezing him tighter.

"I thought you said you hoped he didn't have to come out of hibernation." Came a gruff voice. She glanced up to see Bruce leaning against a wall. His eyes didn't meet hers, instead the focused on another spot in the room. Just past the wannabe Harley Quinn passed out on the floor.

"Not involving him or the police would be ideal, but I wouldn't complain about having his company y here." She admitted. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting, I'm-"

"I know who you are." He cut in. "Everyone here does."

"Wow, color me flattered." Her voice fell flat of any emotion. Adrian pulled away.

"That's the most I've heard him talk since he got here." He said. Cara-Beth smiled.

"That's because Mr. Wayne doesn't believe in having any wasted communication. If he says something, he wants it to mean something. It's actually a very respectable quality to have."

"Or it's annoying." Adrian sighed. "I've been stuck in here forever and he won't even talk to me."

"Well, I'm here now." She said clasping her hands together. "Now, Mr. Wayne and I have some negotiating to do, don't we?"

"You want to ransom me back off to the Joker, don't you?" He asked checking his wrist.

"Perhaps." She shrugged.

"For five minutes in their territory without being captured."

"That'd be ideal, yes."

"And what would I get out of it?"

"I beg your pardon?" She was genuinely surprised. Bruce flickered his icy blue eyes back to her and smirked.

"You heard me, what would I get out of it?"

"I don't understand, you're my prisoner. You don't have much of a say in the matter. Either you choose to cooperate or we keep you here until we can hash out the details with the other team."

"We. Who is this 'we' you keep talking about and what makes 'you' think I don't have a say-so in this game? Obviously you believe I have some sort of value here. If that's even remotely true, I'd like to exploit that."

Cara-Beth narrowed her eyes. Adrian tensed at her side. "You know something, Mr. Wayne, I do not believe you. I refuse to believe you're this selfish. In fact, I think you're a remarkable person and hold nothing but respect for you. However, this game you're trying to play with me right now isn't cute and I'm not having it. Here's what's going to happen: you are going to stay right here until I can set up a formal meeting with the leader of the other team and discuss exchanging you for a free pass in their territory. Once we agree on terms, I will send someone to fetch you and you'll be out of my hands. Do you understand?"

"You're a fool."

Cara-Beth froze. The girl on the floor moaned, then rolled back over onto her side. Adrian stared at the man wide-eyed.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You. Are. A. Fool." He hummed carefully glancing at his wrist for the second time in five minutes. "You wanted to gage my reaction, didn't you? I mean, that's the whole reason you chose to come see me. You wanted to feel out what I thought about all of this. Your cute little fund raiser and this clever little game of cat and mouse you're trying to play with the psychopath next door. Well, I think you're a fool. This whole thing is outrageous. It doesn't matter if you win or lose, the Joker is going to do what the Joker wants and that's that. If he wants to kill you, he'll kill you. That, or he'll send that blonde bimbo to do his dirty work for him. What exactly are you trying to do here? Win? Outsmart him? He finds you interesting now, but give it a minute and this whole place will be nothing but ash and dust and you and everyone in this building will be nothing but a memory. I've seen it before. You're a fool."

Rage licked at Cara-Beth's skin. It took everything inside of her not to race across the room and slap him clear across the face. She balled her hands into tight fists and clenched her hands until her knuckles turned white. Her breathing became unsteady and her heart hiccupped in her chest.

"It's not about winning." She said through gritted teeth. "It was never about winning. It was about survival. I'm buying us as much time as I can and praying that somehow I change the mind of at least one person on the other side. People matter, Mr. Wayne. All people. We can't just pick and choose who we want to save. We have to save them all. And I believe in Batman like I believe in the morning sun. This city is beautiful. It's not forgotten, and neither are we. Batman will come. And if not him, then Nightwing or Robin- someone will find us. I believe it, Mr. Wayne. With all my heart and soul." She paused, looking Adrian back over and sighed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a game to play."

She pivoted slightly towards the poor and gracefully pushed it open. Adrian lurked behind her, but she refused to let him out and instead, closed the door in front of him.

"How'd it go?" Cynthia inquired curiously. Cara-Beth shook her head and sighed.

"Less than ideal, but he did bring up some interesting points. I'm playing with all of our lives, Cynthia. What was I thinking?"

"I have faith in you." The woman smiled kindly. "I've lived here my whole life and have had more than one nasty run-in with the Joker. Look." She lifted her dress just enough to expose her leg. Cara-Beth gasped. It was gone and instead replaced by a prosthetic. "This came from a game the Joker wanted to play ten years ago. My father wasn't able to round up enough money in time, and unfortunately Batman came too little too late. But, the way you've been playing, no one is hurt. No one is dying. There have been considerably less explosions. Everyone feels mostly safe. We all just have to wait. Batman is coming. He always does."

Cara-Beth couldn't control herself. Before she knew what she was doing, her arms were wrapped tightly around the woman in an intense hug. Cynthia hugged her back, knowing it was exactly what Cara-Beth needed. But after a beat, the hug dissipated and the two were left feeling stronger and better.

"I have to go now." Cara-Beth explained. "But no amount of words can ever explain how much this meant to me. Thank you."

"Of course, honey! Now go do what you've got to do."

Cara-Beth went to take a step forward, but the ground beneath her feet started to shake sending her horribly off balance. She caught herself on the wall and stared down the hallway. A rolling wave of smoke raced towards her, a small herd of people running away at it's mouth. And the lights, they became haunted. Flickering on and off too quickly to be comprehended. Cara-Beth braced herself, holding onto hope that this was the moment she'd been waiting for since the beginning.

"Batman?" She mouthed. But Kevin proved her wrong.

"We're under attack!" He shrieked. "Take cover! The boss has gone, he's gone-"

A trickle of blood poured out of the man's nose. And his eyes rolled into the back of his head before ultimately, he fell forward. Cara-Beth tensed. The Joker's laugh penetrated her.

"Strategy games can be so boring." He groaned rounding the corner on what could only be described as a doomsday buggy. Harley manned a machine gun from the back seat, and a large purple and green colored gun proudly sat at the hood spitting out acid at the Joker's will. "I have a fun new idea! Where on earth is the guest of honor? She would love to hear this, I'm sure!"

"Cynthia!" Cara-Beth exclaimed turning back to the woman in red. She was frozen. "Cynthia, snap out of it! Listen, listen to me! I've got to go face the Joker, but I need you to get all of the children out of you. There's enough chaos right now, you might be able to escape. This doesn't look good. Cynthia! Cynthia, do you hear me?"

Cara-Beth reached out to touch the woman, but just as her fingers grazed her fingers, she collapsed.

"Oh, lookie! I think I sees her!" Harley cooed excitedly firing off another unnecessary round. Cara-Beth pursed her lips and boldly turned back to them.

"This wasn't part of the game." She stated as-a-matter-of-factly, dragging her bare feet limply forward. "How many innocent people have you hurt to get to me?"

"Let's see, carry the one, add three-" the man trailed on counting on his fingers. He stopped to rub his temples. "Oh, math is hard! I was never good at math."

"He really isn't!" Harley laughed obnoxiously. Cara-Beth resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Well, doesn't matter." She said puffing up her chest. "The people I know, Harley and the Joker, are both people of honor. People of their word. You gave my game a chance, and now you want to play yours, is that right?"

"Oh, lookie here, Harley dear! She's right again. What is that, two times in a row? We should reward her, shouldn't we!" He laughed clapping his hands excitedly together. "Now what should we do?" He leaned over the steering wheel in-avertedly aiming it at the girl in front of him- Cara-Beth King. She puffed out steam. This game was getting old real fast.

"Run." Someone whispered. Out of the corner of her eye, Joe was waving her away. She took a second to register what he was suggesting. Would running really help? Or would Harley gun her down in the middle of the hall? She shook her head. Running was not an option.

"I know! I really liked the thought of having you join our squad. You would really hate that, wouldn't you? Oh, the look of misery on your face every time you had to kill someone! That look would really help me get out of bed in the morning! Like Christmas every day!" Again, he laughed. Harley grinned wider. "Besides, decapitating you in front of children is so traumatizing. And messy. The cleaning bill would be outrageous, and they would never quite get the blood stain out of the rugs. Just awful!"

"Run!" Joe repeated, louder. This time, Harley heard him. She took aim and fired, gunning the goon down where he stood. Cara-Beth took off, praying her feet would be enough to carry her away to safely. This was a mistake! Bruce was right. She shouldn't have played. God, how could she have been so…so…foolish.

"This way!" Harley shrieked. "Come on, baby doll! Faster!"

Gears were grinding as the heavy machine charged on after her. Cara-Beth held her breath, sharply turning down the hall into the ballroom again. Her eyes darted quickly around the room taking note of the piles of debris lining the floor, no doubt from the explosion earlier. She looked to her right, then to her left wondering which way would be better.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" The Joker sang. Her heart fluttered, wildly wishing to erupt right out of her chest. There was no escaping. The room was too open. Too exposed. She couldn't hide and running now would be crazy.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed the glass wall. Her heart slowed. It was hypnotizing. The window. And she found herself drawing nearer to it. The skyline glimmered of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Batman's silhouette would come at the very last second. Maybe he would save her, save all of them. Maybe it wasn't too late.

But as she approached the window, all that could be seen where towers and lights, and the big full moon hanging softly in the sky. She took a second to admire the moon. Fantasized Batman swinging in yet again. She closed her eyes and pressed the palm of her hand against the glass.

Nine months. That's how long she'd been in Gotham City. Nine short months. And in one single night, she'd be forced out of this world. She wouldn't allow herself to be captured. She couldn't. Hurting someone went against everything she stood. But killing herself? Jumping out of the window? What would that do? And, knowing her luck, she'd leap just before help could arrive. No. She couldn't do it. Could she?

"No one's coming." The Joker whined. "I guess the Bats didn't get our invitation. Oh well! More fun for me."

She could hear the buggy getting closer, and with every second the thought of ending herself sounded better and better. But she couldn't do it, she really couldn't do it. She would find a way to escape. She'd move to Metropolis with Davis and Claire. There, another hero lurked. It'd be safer. She'd be okay. Everything would be alright if she just-

The power went out. The buggy stopped. Cara-Beth turned just in time to witness a dark figure dropping between them. She placed a hand over her heart letting the relief sink in. This wasn't Batman, no- but it was someone similar. Who? Who was this man?

"Well, well, well! Looks like the Bats sent his errand boy to do his dirty work for him. What's the matter, is Batman home sick with the flu?" The Joker taunted aiming some acid at the hero. The unknown figure leaped out of the way and flung something out of his hand. The Joker scattered and took aim with a hand gun before shooting off a couple of rounds.

"Yeah, actually. That's what took me so long." He said dodging each shot. His movements were fluid. Effortless. Slick. "I had to deliver him some chicken noodle soup before coming here to tango with you two."

"Funny, we didn't get the memo." Harley said rapidly firing away. The figure leaped into the air, twisted, turned, did a back hand spring, tossed something else into the buggy, then stopped a couple yards away. Cara-Beth grinned. Nightwing.

"Give my regards to the Bats." Joker said doing a bow. "Did you happen to bring any backup?"

"No, why-"

Before he could finish, the Joker snapped his fingers. The lights turned back on and suddenly the entire room was blocked off by the surviving goons and a group of guests locked in a larger cage.

"I didn't get to finish my game." The Joker explained. "And since I don't have the Bats, I guess I'll just have to make due with you. See this cage? In exactly one minute, a timer is going to go off that will completely fry everyone inside like bacon. You have to figure out how to stop it without triggering a reaction that will make it go off sooner. If you get them out on time, you win. We lose. We go home. You're a hero. If not, we win. They die. We get our prize. And you're a murderer."

"You monster!" Nightwing spat. "How-"

"Uh ah! No talking, times-a-wastin'!" The Joker said pointing at a large pocket watch. Nightwing sprang into action, carefully looking at the puzzle placed at the lock as the Joker and Harley started pacing the room hand-in-hand.

"This has been fun, hasn't it?" He asked. She giggled.

"Yeah, a real treat!"

"Never would have thought of this on my own." He mused. "But, here we are! What a time to be alive!"

As if planned, someone swooped in knocking the Joker to the ground. A second noise came shortly after. Cara-Beth's eyes widened in delight. Batman and Robin!

"Go help Nightwing. We don't have much time." Batman growled. Robin nodded and took off towards the cage.

"No fair! I thought the boy wonder was off at camp." Joker complained. "No matter! The more the merrier!"

Harley and Joker pounced, temporarily taking Batman down. Batman jumped out of their grip retaliating with a Baterang. Cara-Beth couldn't believe her eyes. Things were looking up. It didn't matter how many nameless goons jumped on Batman or how dirty Harley and Joker wanted to play, the three heroes were winning! They were really going to survive this! They were going to-

A jarring pain in the left side of her shoulder interrupted her thoughts. She looked down hearing the glass shattered behind her, but instinctively reacted0 to the pain first. Blood pooled out of a small single wound. She'd been shot and everything was hazy. She stumbled backwards. And tripped. Falling didn't seem real. But that's what she was doing. She was falling to her death.

Batman shot off a grappling hook, but somehow it missed. Narrowly zipping past her. But how? Batman never missed. Was it the Joker? No, Harley more likely. And as the air around her started to whip past her, she realized something: he wouldn't have time to shoot again. No time to save her. They were ten stories up. She was going to hit the ground. It was going to hurt. Her head would split open on the sidewalk. People would scream, but it was nothing they hadn't already seen before. She'd just become another name in the paper. Another casualty. That would be okay. Better than being kidnapped by the Joker and forced to kill. But still not ideal.

Her vision blurred. She was losing consciousness. She could feel her soul escaping her body. Maybe she'd be dead before she hit the ground. Somehow, that thought brought a smile to her face. And she welcomed death.

 **Songs meant to inspire:**

"The Beginning and the End"- Anathema

"Alphabet Boy"- Melanie Martinez

"Live Wire"- Oh Wonder


	4. Chapter Three: Stupid

**WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE IN THIS CHAPTER**

Chapter Three: Stupid

"So fucking stupid." Jason scoffed placing a steaming cup of coffee on his nightstand. He narrowed his eyes and bit his bottom lip, zeroing in on the girl resting lifelessly on his bed. He took a second to examine her and wondered why in the fucking hell he took her here. Anywhere would be better. Hell, he could have let her die. But he didn't. And it confused the ever living hell out of him.

He shoved off the bed and started frantically pacing the room. Rubbing his hands across his face, he let out of frustrated grunt and cursed himself for being so stupid. Who was this girl? And why should he care? She wasn't important. Innocent, maybe. But honestly, who was? What did it mean? He knew he wasn't perfect, but he was never given the chance to be perfect. Not like her. Just look at her! Faux pearl earrings, long lacy dress, and what was that on her left hand? Dammit! Was that a fucking engagement ring? Of fucking course it was. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! She wasn't even fucking single! What the fucking hell was wrong with him! Fuck!

He plopped back down on the chair and crossed his arms angrily over his chest. Rage licked at his skin. Saying he wasn't happy was an understatement of epic proportions. He was livid. He knew he couldn't take her to the hospital. The fucking Joker was fucking obsessed with her, and for whatever fucking reason so was Bruce. Why? Why was she important? She wasn't the first person to challenge the Joker, and she wasn't the first person to ever dedicate their lives to charity. She was cute, sure, but she wasn't a Hollywood ten. He would even wager to say she wasn't a Gotham seven. A solid six, maybe? He tilted his head to her and sighed. Why did it even matter? She was fucking engaged!

But that was beside the point. What was he going to do with her? So, yeah, no hospital. That was the point, wasn't it? There was no body after she fell, so Batman suspected someone at the very least took her body. And the Joker? Who knew what that guy thought? And who cared. God! Why did he care?

"You're a fucking idiot and I didn't even fucking want to attend your fucking little fundraiser." He growled at her. "I fucking hate you and should have let you fucking die."

She didn't answer. But then again, he didn't really expect her to. She was uncurious. For how long, he had no idea. He wasn't a fucking doctor. But he didn't have to be to know she was in a coma. Whoop-de-fucking do. What was he supposed to do what that?!

He let out another frustrated grunt and reached for the cup of coffee. God, this whole situation was so fucked up. This was all Bruce's fault. If he wasn't trying to be there for Bruce and the bird boys who had to make an appearance for whatever reason, this would have never happened. He shook his head and placed the coffee on his knee. Geeze, the whole night seemed so surreal to him. He even wore a fucking monkey suit for Bruce. The night was supposed to go off without a hitch. Go in, have a couple of drinks, nod to his "brothers", then get out. He'd even planned to do a quick patrol of the city before returning to bed early, but now he didn't even have that! She was in his fucking bed. Fuck! Where was he going to sleep now? No- he probably wasn't going to sleep…unless…

He shook his head. No, she was engaged. Whether or not everyone thought she was dead was a different story. Her fiancé, that little fucker, was probably receiving the news right now. Or maybe he watched it all unfold live. Was he there? Jason tried to remember, but he couldn't seem to place a man there standing by her side.

"I need a fucking cigarette." He muttered setting the mug back on the stand. He glared at her out of the corner of his eye and fished into his pocket for his last pack of cigarettes. He lit it, placed it between his lips, and took a long drag. He let the smoke fill up his insides before exhaling slowly. The smoke swirled from his mouth and allowed all his anxieties to leave him. "You know, I'm going to have to take care of you." He said tapping the ash on the chair. "Which means I'm probably going to have to call in a few favors. You owe me. I want you to remember that, because the whole situation is so fucking insane."

He shook his head placing the cigarette back between his lips. He was actually pretty damn grateful he'd already spoken to a connection before bringing her here. Some fat-ass mother fucker from his days running rings in Gotham. The guy worked at a hospital in the bad part of town and was supposed to be arriving soon with some si-fi shit that was rumored to monitor her by itself. Jason puffed out steam and extinguished his cigarette. He yawned, stretched, and slowly brought himself to a standing position. He glanced down at his watch and sighed. He wasn't stupid enough to give the guy his address, so had to go and meet him back at the hospital.

"What a pain." He complained out loud. To be completely honest, he wasn't entirely sure why he was jumping through so many hoops for this woman. A part of him wondered if it had something to do with the suicide. Another, crazier part told him it was because she was important. And though she was merely human, Gotham could use a positive force like her. Of course, that side of him was mad as hell and felt oddly Batman-like. He shook his head. His temples throbbed. He was giving it too much thought. A night ride would help.

Jason glided over to the closet in the corner of the room and found the false back. He quickly pulled on his clothes, ignoring the fact that there was a lady motionless in his bed, and forced his imfamous red helmet into place. _It's not like she'll wake up or anything._ He told himself as he strapped on his guns. _I mean, I checked her myself. The girl's out cold!_ Even so, he couldn't shake the paranoia, so quickly left.

Thirty minutes later, Jason found himself waiting outside the hospital for the fucking retard who'd managed to be late…again. And after Jason had gone through the trouble of "borrowing" a semi-truck for the mission. Honestly! The nerve of some people. It was just so…impolite?

"R-Red Hood, sir?"

Jason stirred. He pushed off the truck and carefully unfolded his arms.

"Well, well, well, look who finally managed to show." He didn't try to hide the frustration from his voice. In fact, he would even wager to say he played it up. The look on the guy's face was absolutely priceless. The round little piggy looked like he was about ready to squeal. Jason smirked from beneath the mask.

"I-I-I-" The man choked. "I'm sorry, but I, uh, there was-"

"Come on, spit it out, porky." Jason cooed dragging himself closer to the stout man. Once he reached him, he wrapped his arm around his neck in a half-chokehold half-playful grip and brought him in closer to his body. "I promise I won't hurt ya. I'd like to think of myself as a very kind man."

"A-And you are!" The man pleaded. It was pathetic, really. He didn't even try to break the grip. Jason frowned. This wasn't fun at all. "Honestly, sir! If it weren't for you, this hospital would be under constant attack! It would be in rubbles by now! T-Thank you, sir! Your protection has given us such a peace of mind."

Jason rolled his eyes and let the man go. He wished the man was exaggerating, but this part of town was a particularly bad one, and the hospital was a panicle hang out for scumbags. Before he showed up, various gangs had been using the grounds for their own personal gain. Selling prescription goods, making deals, hell one gang member was using coma patients for target practice. Jason balled his fists at the memory. What the hell was wrong with people?

"Red Hood, sir, uh, may I ask why you want this particular piece of equipment?" The man inquired, but quickly back peddled. "I mean, it's none of my business, and the rest of us are okay with you taking it because of all you've done for us but, um-"

"You told someone else?"

"No! I mean, maybe? Uh, you see, I was nervous, my job-"

"Oh, porky boy, I thought we had an agreement." Jason wheezed through gritted teeth. "No one can know about these little favors you do for me and I protect you. It's simple, really. All you have to do is keep. Your. Mouth. Shut."

The man gulped, and it was almost like a cartoon. Jason could swear he could see the wad of spit slip down his throat with the mere sound of his voice as inspiration. And poor little porky was sweating bullets.

"Mr. Hood, sir, I-I-I'm sorry! Please, don't leave us! We'll be good! I-I'll be good. You can count on us, I swear! We won't say anything. Not a word! We promise. I-I promise!"

"Good." Jason nodded crossing his arms back over his chest. "And if you must know, I have big plans for this little device. And that's all I can say, really. So if any baddies come buy and make you squeal, little piggy, tell 'em they can have the device when I'm good and done with it."

"A-And how long will that be? Not, uh, that it matters."

Jason rolled his eyes. This was just painful. I mean, he wasn't stupid and quite frankly it was insulting everyone thought he was. He knew porky was "secretly" feeding information to the other team. And he enjoyed exploiting that as much as possible. As far as porky knew, Jason was building some sort of device and had been for months when in reality, Jason enjoyed "borrowing" things for fun. He also liked trying to figure out how different things worked just in case he was in a pinch. Now, when he actually had a purpose for it, he was grateful for all the false clues he'd planted.

"Ah, who knows?" Jason shrugged finally answering porky's question. "This has been quite a night. Help me load this into the truck. And explain how everything works. Once I know how it works, it'll be easier to deconstruct."

"You-you're deconstructing it?" Porky paused to nervously look over Jason who instinctively faked the same emotion.

"Oh, man! I've said too much. No, of course not!" Jason carried on, though it wasn't an entire lie. He was planning on scanning the machine to make sure there was no bug or bombs or anything. A thorough search was better than no search after all, so he was planning on playing with the machine before hooking it up to what's-her-face.

"O-Oh. Okay. Good." Porky sighed leading them to the bulky expensive looking machine. "Because this is a highly sensitive piece of equiptment. A single screw out of place could throw the whole thing off! So please, be careful before you return it."

 _That's cute,_ Jason thought, _Porky thinks I'm actually going to return it! He must have a few screws loose himself._ "So how does it work?" Jason asked poking a finger at the fancy looking head gear. The machine looked pretty standard. You know, if he were in some shitty science fiction movie. There were two helmets with little stickers attached to wires. Jason guessed those were for monitoring brain activity. And the wires seemed to somehow connect with a two foot tall boxy looking computer, which he figured was used for reading brain activity. Before he could inspect the machine further, Porky stepped in.

"This thing is pretty cool." Porky stated with a smile. And for the first time, he wasn't stuttering. He opened the computer screen exposing different colored tubes. "You see this? This machine does everything for you. Even an idiot could operate it." He stopped suddenly and blushed realizing that he might have offended Jason. Luckily, Jason was too mesmerized to really care. "All you do is hook the helmet up to the temples and the computer will periodically scan brain waves to see how the patients are doing. Depending on the scan, the system will pump medicine in through the fancy looking stickers. No needles, so no worries about missing a vein or anything like that!" Porky laughed and when Jason didn't react, stopped. "Anyways, pretty neat, huh?"

"Yes, and exactly what I was looking for." Jason mused lifting the machine into truck. "Once again, you've come through for me, Porky!"

"My name is Gibson, sir." Porky corrected. "Randell Gibson. You don't need to keep calling me Porky, it's insulting."

"It's a term of endearment." Jason grinned from beneath the mask. He latched the machine in place and sighed. "Most people don't get nicknames."

"Those people are lucky." Porky muttered under his breath. Jason didn't dignify him with an answer. Instead, he turned on his heels and hopped up into the driver's seat. Porky followed him. "When will you return?" He asked.

"Whenever the hell I feel like it."

With his words lingering in the air, Jason set off to call in his next favor.

 **Songs Meant to Inspire:**

1\. "Clockwork"- Noosa

2\. "Full Circle"- Leo Kalyan

3\. "Places"- Wyatt


	5. Chapter Four: Regal

Chapter Four: Regal

"Do you know how hard it is to fake a death?" Jason asked the woman lying in his bed. "Of course not!" He exclaimed taking another swing of whisky. He plopped into the seat next to the bed and let out a frustrated groan. "This night has been hell! Complete and total hell! I mean, first- first I had to rescue your dumb ass from splattering on the ground and you still- STILL- managed to nearly bleed out. Lucky for you, _princess_ , I've been shot enough times to know how to patch up a good ole fashioned bullet hole." He said patting his chest triumphantly. He frowned, eased back, and sighed. "Next, I had to figure out how the hell to wake you up from this shit storm. Then, I had to fucking fake your death! I had to figure out who the hell you are, get a body from the morgue, and threaten them into faking your fucking death! I mean, what the fuck!" He polished off the rest of the whisky before glaring at the girl once more. "Cara-Beth Fucking King, that's who you are." The liquor started to kick in. He felt woozy, but didn't let it bother him. "You know what I did for you? I tore this sweet lil' machine apart to make sure it was safe enough to use on you. That- that's what I did. And I hooked it up to you so you wouldn't fucking die. So…you're welcome."

He dropped the whisky on the floor and messaged his temples feeling the unforgiveable headache that comes from drinking too much. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the machine. He smirked. He completely took it apart and put it together and he still had no idea why there were two helmets instead of just one. Maybe it was to scan and monitor two patients? To save the hospital money. He nodded to himself. And an idea struck: What would happen if he hooked himself up to the machine? Before the idea had a chance to fully form in Jason's head, he had already managed to scramble over to the machine and had sloppily hooked himself up to the helmet and excitedly looked to the screen, ready. A slow frown cracked across his face. The lines and waves were the same. Nothing had changed.

"Dammit!" He screeched slamming his fist to the floor. "I really thought that would-"

Suddenly, the walls started to melt and dripped into the floor. Everything was moving and fluid, like he was stuck on spinning teacups, twirling. Fragments of what should have been the room danced quickly around him. But then, darkness creeped in, like a shadow. Slowly blanketing the room until it had completely covered everything leaving him totally alone in it's emptiness.

"What…the…fuck…" Jason mouthed pulling himself to his feet. He brought his hands to his face and tried finding the place where he'd attached the helmet. He had located the stickers when something, a soft sound, hit his eardrums and rattled through his brain. He froze. The smoke-y, velvety voice held so much emotion as it soared through the darkness, fluid, that he couldn't help but wait and listen. Swimming. It was literally swimming through the black veil, he was sure of it. Like magic. It held no logic, only beauty. And it pulled him. Pulled on his heart. Somehow attaching invisible strings to him. To his feet. To his knees. To his hands. Taking control of like a puppeteer to a puppet. Making him move. Slowly, to not disturb the siren's song.

He closed his eyes, though even with them open he couldn't see anything. He wanted to listen closer. Listen harder as he was being lead. The song, so sweet. So sad. So pure. Emotional. And as the voice continued leading him on this incredible journey, he couldn't help but let go of his reality. He let go of Bruce and the anger that had fueled him for so long. He dropped his imaginary feud with the people he refused to rightfully call his brothers, though he knew that was exactly who they were. Being alone seemed so foolish. How long had he refused to let people in? Why had he blocked them out? What good did it do when he was so lonely? Drunk. And stupid.

Starfire had once pointed it out to him. That he was hiding. That he had built up a wall around his heart and wouldn't- no- couldn't let anyone in. He laughed in her face. Called her a fucking retard. And did what he did best. Ignored her.

But this music- this song- how was it possible? How could it so effortlessly open his eyes? Like taking a sledge hammer to his heart, it broke through so many layers, so many boundaries. How? How? Why? He was so confused. And so happy, which only added to the confusion. What sorcery was this?

He opened his eyes. His entire body tingled. In the center of what he assumed was a room sat a frail figure shrouded in white. At first, he thought she was controlling the light. Painting with it. But as he listened to the words, and watched her closer, it became clearer that she was actually controlling the shadows. It was her shadow cast across the room. And she was playing with it. Dancing. Using her body and fingers to manipulate it with the light. Jason was baffled. He drank, yes, but nowhere near enough to make him trip this much. He roughly rubbed his hands across his face and sat back down. The voice had lost its mystery. It had lost its magic. He was utterly done with everything and was more than happy to be back to his layers and layers of boundaries and weird daddy issues. He was done.

But then the song stopped. And immediately the room went white. Jason uncovered his face to stare at the room. He didn't feel threatened. In fact, he felt oddly at peace. Which, again, was super weird. He peeled himself from the floor and gaped around the room. Doors. And doors. Oh, and guess what, more white doors lined the neat white room.

"This would be creepy if I wasn't so fucking calm right now." Jason noted. "I'm going to feel this in the morning."

"Hello? Is someone there?" He recognized the voice. It took him a second, but not only was it from the girl singing before, but he remembered it from earlier in the night. Cara-Beth.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jason yelled. He turned his head. Yep, there she was. Standing perfectly still. Her mousy brown layered hair was knotted in a messy side bun with flyaway strands almost strategically falling around her slender heart-shaped face. And, my god! Her eyes were huge. He noticed that when he first met her, wide awake and alert. Back then, he couldn't have looked away quick enough. But now that he had a chance to fearlessly stare at her, he noted they were an unusual shade of brown. A deep liquid gold color, and much like a deer, innocent and in a trance. But since she had been in a comatose state for the majority of his time with her, it was nice to actually be looking at them. He also liked how long and full her lashes were. And how plump her lips were. And pale. In fact, she looked extremely fragile. Not at all like when she was challenging the Joker. After a beat of staring, he blinked away. She wasn't looking at him. She was looking _past_ him. He was invisible to her, wasn't he?

"Hello?" She asked again, though she was only inches away from him. "Are you there?"

"Yeah?" He didn't know how to respond. He was still mildly convinced this was just another drunk expedition. But just in case this was real, in case he'd somehow managed to slip into her subconscious with the help of a magic helmet, he figured he'd at least humor her.

"I can barely hear you." She smiled. It was like her, fragile but kind. "You're like a ghost to me. I'm not sure if you're real, or if I'm just hearing things. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I'm dead. Who knows?" She turned on the balls of her feet and gracefully started drifting away.

Jason took that as a sign to follow. "Carrie, mind if I call you that? Where are we?" He looked around. It was all so confusing. If this was a drunken nightmare, he'd truly outdone himself. This was- in every sense of the word, bizarre.

"Hm." She hummed, drawing his attention back to her. "Good question." She stopped in her tracks, coming face to face with one of the doors. "I don't think I'm dead. But I'm not quite alive." She mused keeping her gaze dead ahead. "Did I die tonight?" She asked aloud. Jason resisted the urge to respond. She must have sensed him, though, because she closed her eyes and shook her head answering him anyways. "No." She breathed. "Something else happened, didn't it?"

Jason looked at her sideways. She had a whimsical way of speaking. Regal, like a cheesy 1920s movie star or something. He wasn't sure if it annoyed the hell out of him or not. A part of him thought it was oddly charming, and another hated it. And then a thought occurred. Maybe she was speaking like this for a reason. Maybe she was having a hard time hearing him? Didn't she just admit she couldn't see him? Didn't she think he was a ghost? He placed a hand over his mouth and stared at her hard. Would she respond if he did something stupid? Something really stupid? Like, fucking retard level stupid?

He was just about to test his theory when she stirred. She straightened her back and opened her eyes, burning holes through the door with her damning stare.

"Maybe I'm not crazy after all." She smiled. "Maybe you're a guardian angel sent to help me through this. And we can start here. Start at this door." She exhaled slowly.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Jason asked.

"Do you feel it, Angel?" He froze. Why did she call him that? "Do you feel what's on the other side?" He pursed his lips. He didn't feel anything coming from the door, but obviously she did. And with that thought lingering in his head, he decided he was just going to roll with it. "Come on, Angel. It feels…warm."

She clasped the handle and flung the door open.

 **Songs Meant to Inspire:**

"Blood Flow"- Ritual

"Instant Crush"- Say Lou Lou

"Growing Younger"


	6. Chapter Five: Magic

Chapter Five: Magic

"What is this?" Cara-Beth wondered aloud. Jason leaned around the frail girl lingering in the door frame and frowned. He wasn't sure where the door had lead them, but somehow it was like fucking Narnia. The door was a portal, some shitty little gateway to a faraway mystical land full of sugar plum fairies and dancing elves. Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating. He was exaggerating a whole lot. However, the door did take them far away from the creepy white room. Wherever they were now, it was bright. But in a completely different way.

He'd never seen a sky so blue. So vibrant it was almost blinding, literally Jason had to shield his eyes with the back of his hand and stare blankly at the ground, which much to his surprise, was pure gold in color. Tall thin strings of grain rolled calmly across a flat field. And when he tilted his head upward, he could make out faint blue and purple silhouettes of mountains across the horizon. When he breathed, he could taste crisp unpolluted air. His body thanked him. If it could talk, it would have let out a fucking sigh of relief. So different from the grimy smog infested city Jason had reluctantly learned to call home with the hustle and bustle of fucking assholes in their beat up gas guzzling cars. Here, there were no gunshots, screams, or people gambling for their lives. There were just peaceful lulls of grasshoppers, probably mating, but whatever. It was nice white noise. And were those birds chirping in the distance? If this was some sort of happy spot in Carrie's mind, Jason wanted to join. This was a blissful escape, and God did he need to escape.

"I know this place." Carrie said cracking a faint smile. Her giant anime eyes fluttered a bunch of times like a fucking Disney princess as she gallop into the middle of the field. "This is my home."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jason growled. "This is where you fucking live? Of course, princess. Of. Fucking. Course."

He was right, side-chick Barbie never worked a day in her damn life. She lived in a blissful fairy tale. He was right to be angry in the first place. Right to hate her right off the bat. Nothing bad ever happened to this fucking girl, just look at the fucking place!

"I fucking hate you." Jason mutter shoving past the girl, still aimlessly gawking at the scene. "I fucking hate you."

Cara-Beth rubbed her arm faintly feeling his presence, and let her face sink into a deep frown. "Angel, why are you mad?" Carrie asked. He stopped, squinted his eyes, and turned.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Why do I- why?" He was starting to sober up. His steps weren't quite as sloppy and she wasn't so hazy to him anymore. She was clear, crisp, high definition. He violently shook his head no and crammed his hands into his pockets as he shrugged. "I don't know princess, look around you! I mean, damn. You know where I lived? Do you really want to know where I grew up? I grew up on the fucking streets. By the time I turned ten, I'd seen more dead bodies than a normal mortician. Tell me if that's fucking fair? The answer is no, princess. While you got to frolic through these fucking fields, I had to steal and lie and cheat. I was fighting for my life. What were you fighting for?"

The girl was quiet. Once again, she was staring past him. But it was clear to him she could vaguely hear him. More than that, she could sense his anger. She dropped her head and puffed out steam.

"You're right." She muttered under her breath. "I was very blessed. My main concern growing up was whether or not mommy or daddy would tuck me in. I wasn't tortured. I wasn't abused. I didn't have to struggle to find food, I always had a place to rest my head at night. I was lucky."

Carrie slowly pulled her hand forward, sticking it out inches away from him. Jason looked at it confused. It was like she was trying to touch him. To feel him. But she failed miserably.

"I know you're not trying to rub your a-list life in my face, but you definitely are. I mean, damn, princess. Stop while you're ahead."

"Angel's got jokes." Carrie shrugged staggering forward. "Well, if you've got the balls to mock me, I'm going to assume you have the balls to follow me."

Elegance and grace were words Jason would have used to describe the girl before this point. But now he found his jaw hanging loose, nearly touching the floor. In a weird way, he appreciated and respected the new change of tone. And damn, did he have the balls to follow her.

The lovely lady dressed in white effortlessly strode forward. Her posture was firm, but fluid, and her eyes were fixed dead ahead. Cool and content. Jason, on the other hand, was bulky and awkward as he stumbled through the field. As he galloped after the girl, a large log cabin inspired building started coming into view. Jason ignored the stinging pain of jealous gnawing away in the pit of his stomach and attempted to hold onto the respect he had for her. The respect was small and the house was damn fucking beautiful.

"I wonder," Carrie mused, "what year it is."

Jason's brows pinched together as he snapped his head back to her. Carrie's pace had slowed significantly, and the gorgeous ranch was a mere feet away from him. He took her hesitance as a chance to memorize the layout, not that he needed to or anything, he wanted to add more reasons to hate her to his already growing list.

The house stood a proud three stories tall with a large wrap around southern lovin' porch complete with hanging swings and lazy chairs. A neat combination of logs and stones decorated the frame of the building, and clusters of ivy crawled up its side. Flowers were in full bloom, lining a single stone path to the house. So many gardens. Too many flowers. Too many bugs. But the house. Wow. Gorgeous.

He let his eyes wander around, noting the wooden fence that kept a small herd of horses in line with a gorgeous wooden barn. And to his left, a vineyard as far as the eye could see. Did she really own a vineyard?

"My parents own the place." She explained. "I'm not exactly in line to inherit, if that's what you're thinking. But as my guardian angel, you should already know that." She paused to take a breath. He pursed his lips. "Let's go."

Jason didn't say anything. If he was being honest, which didn't come naturally, he felt bad. There was a certain heaviness in her voice when she spoke about the house. A certain tone that he recognized. Somehow, and he wasn't sure how, she'd burned the bridge between her family. Now he was curious.

Once again, Carrie composed herself. Her fluid motions lead her to the door, which she clasped with one hand, and tugged it open. In the foyer was a little boy, no older than two, strapped in in overalls and a red and blue striped tee shirt. He was drooling on himself as he raced around in circles. In the distance, two female voices could be heard mumbling. Carrie dragged herself forward, like a ghost, following the noise. Jason puffed out steam realizing he didn't have a fucking choice. He had to follow the damn girl again. Wherever the fuck she was heading.

"I'm telling you, Janis. You need to leave him." A heavy set woman with thick black hair cooed. Jason wrinkled his nose, disgusted. What a cow! And her thick southern accent was absolutely appalling! She was worse than Porky, the heifer. When she spoke, her double chin jiggled. And she tried- and failed- at disguising her body in a lavish green and black dress. If he had to give the woman, as awful as she was, a compliment it would be her makeup, which she wore perfectly.

"Miss Leslie!" Carrie exclaimed rushing to the woman's side. "Look at you! So thin! You look beautiful!"

"Thin?" Jason chuckled. "She's a cow."

"No need to be bitter." Carrie snapped, she was getting better at hearing him. "She is, and always will be, lovely. Miss Leslie is like a mother to me. She has a big mouth and a heart of pure gold. I could always count on her to keep me straight."

"I'm sure." Jason grumbled under his breath. Carrie didn't respond. Instead, she spun around, bewildered at the sight of a second woman with a baby in her arms. The woman rocked steadily back and forth, yawning as she did so. Heavy purple rings lined her eyes, but she still managed to smile. No matter how fake it was.

"Mom." Carrie whispered. "You look…tired."

"I can't leave him," Carrie's mom's voice was meek, just as tired as she looked, "he's my husband."

"And a class act asshole!" Leslie said leaping to her feet.

"Oh, I see what you mean by big mouth!" Jason grinned. "I take back every negative thought I had about her."

"Janis, your husband is scum. Lower than scum. How many times have you caught him cheating? And with your fucking children in the house!"

"Language!" Janis, Carrie's mom, hushed. Jason quirked his brows. This was like living inside of a soap opera. Spicy, fiery, fun. Leslie didn't back down as she stared at Janis, and Jason loved the intensity rising in the room. Carrie, on the other hand, seemed to hate it. The fragile girl shrank back to Jason's side, though she couldn't see him, she hid behind him.

"Language? It's a baby, Janis. Babies don't remember things. Cara-Beth won't remember this conversation, and knowing you, she will never know how much of a lying, cheating whore her father his! You and your children deserve so much better."

"Davis, Kylie, and Cara-Beth need a father." Janis stated firmly. "I appreciate your concern, but I can't handle this right now."

"You just had a baby." Leslie finished. "I know. I had one too."

"Two years ago!" Janis exclaimed. The baby started whining. Jason massaged his temples. Fucking babies always fucking up good drama. Fucking fucktard. "You can't keep hiding behind that!"

"Seriously! I'm not the enemy here, Jan. Your husband is!"

"Can you-"

"Stop!" Carrie screamed. Jason didn't expect the volume in her voice. He jumped, fucking jumped at her shrieking, and staggered backwards.

"Whoa, princess." He whispered. "Where'd that come from?"

"We're leaving." She hissed storming out of the room. Jason lingered, unsure of what he should do, but ultimately did what he always did and followed.

"Where are we going?" Jason asked speeding up to keep her pace as she zipped back through the field where the door lingered. She didn't utter a word as she stepped back into the white room and headed for another door. Jason's eyes grew large. "Oh, hell no!" He growled. "Hell fucking no. What the fuck is this madness? No!"

"I want a happy memory." Carrie murmured. "My dad wasn't a cheater. He wasn't."

Jason stared at her long and hard. Her hands had balled into tight fists and she was practically shaking. He shut his mouth and sighed, accepting what was coming. He had to go where she went. That was how he would get out of this nightmare, right? This bizarre hallucination began and ended with her. She knew the way out.

Carrie glanced around the white room at all the doors until she finally settled on one nestled in the far end. She lifted her finger and pointed, and without saying a word, she hustled over to the door and threw it open. Jason was barely able to keep her step, but he'd be fucking dead if he lost track of her. She was completely insane, he was sure of it. Just nuts. Fucking nuts. But when he stepped through the frame, something unexpected happened. Fucking Frank Sinatra.

Jason remembered listening to the song before, a long time ago. And when he closed his eyes, it brought him back there. Transported him like some sort of time machine. And for a split second, he was happy. "As Time Goes By" by Frank Sinatra. His chest hurt, like someone had punched him square in the gut. It ached. He wanted to throw up, and when he opened his eyes, he was inside the house again. This time, in the living room. A Christmas tree was neatly decorated in the large gaping window with handmade decorations, and missile toes and strings of pine and reefs were scattered across the small room. As Jason examined it further, he noted that the furniture was pushed to the sides leaving the floor open. He could strong smell egg nog and chestnuts lingering in the air. And there was a crackling fire that surprisingly blended well with 'ole Blue Eyes voice.

"Christmas, 1997." Cara-Beth breathed happily. She looked over to where Jason was standing and smiled brightly. His heart skipped a beat. She was glowing. "Look over there." She nodded. He let his gaze flicker.

Dancing clumsily around the room was an older version of Carrie's mom with a man Jason assumed to be her father. He was a handsome man, and Jason could guess that's why he felt the need to cheat so much. He had a thick full head of blond hair and warm brown eyes, much like Carrie's. His skin was a translucent white, and he was built like a Greek god. When he floated around the room with Carrie's mom, it was easy to see their love for each other, and it was at that moment Jason realized Carrie had a little bit of control to where she lead them.

"This is a good memory." Carrie seemed to agree. She dropped her gaze to the opposite end of the room and laughed silently to herself. "Look," she nodded again, "that's me. I used to sneak out of bed a lot to spy on my parents. I know their marriage wasn't perfect, and they did fight a lot. But moments like these make them all melt away. Love is hard. Falling into love- that's easy. Staying in love is takes work. You are constantly under attack. But if you give it your all, it's worth it."

A single tear pulled at the corner of her right eye. Jason couldn't bear to watch her cry, for whatever fucking reason, so quickly glanced away to see the younger version of herself. He had to admit, she was a cute kid. She had thick, choppy straight across bangs and a messy bun sat at the top of her head. Her eyes were gigantic, even larger and more round than they were currently. And her cheeks, so round and chubby. She hadn't quite lost her baby fat. She looked so innocent as she hugged a stuffed angel to her chest and smiled a toothless smile up at her parents. The scene was too perfect, and Jason wondered why that made her want to cry.

Before he had the chance to ask, the room started to shake and melt like wax dripping down a flat surface.

"Dammit." Jason scoffed. "Not again."

"Angel, are you leaving?" Carrie asked, seemingly unaffected by the sudden change.

"I'm not your goddamn angel." He snapped as she started melting away. But this time, she didn't hear him. And in a flash of bright light, everything went black and he could feel the heaviness of a hangover throbbing at his temples, and the coolness of the helmet on his head.

He didn't have to open his eyes to know that it was morning and that he was magically transported back to his room. It was insane, though. How real interacting with her felt. And those rooms. He didn't feel jealous of her anymore. Instead, he felt an odd desire to try to dig deeper. He wanted to know her.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Hey, guys! Merry Christmas! This will be my last update for a while. What do you think? Is this story worth continuing? I haven't been getting too much feedback, which is sad because I'm really getting into it. Jason is really fun to write, and I love his interactions with Carrie in this chapter. I'll upload one or two more chapters, and if they're unpopular, I think I'll quit. Sorry, loves. I hope you have a lovely holiday, though!

 **CRITICAL QUESTIONS:**

-How do you feel about Carrie now?

-How is Jason's character compared to how he is in the comics?

-What do you want to see happen?

 **POLL:**

Which characters do you want to see appear?

A. Starfire

B. Dick Grayson

C. Tim Drake

D. Bruce Wayne

 **SONGS MEANT TO INSPIRE:**

1\. Wanklemut- One Day

2\. The XX- Island

3\. Lumineers- Flapper Girl


End file.
